The Great Man Stumbles
by Gojirob
Summary: A retelling of the M*A*S*H* episode, 'Fallen Idol'. When Wesley is badly injured on a shore leave he would rather have avoided, Picard undergoes a massive crisis of confidence, while Riker handles the most obnoxious UFP members ever. And O'Brien meets...


When Wesley is injured on a Shore Leave he did not wish to go on, Picard undergoes a massive crisis of confidence, affecting his First Officer and CMO as well, all while the most obnoxious UFP members to date make all their lives difficult, and while two crewmembers discover love and their connection to a certain medical unit from Earth's Korean War.

Please forgive the references to other M*A*S*H stories I have written here. They are 100% not necessary to read or appreciate this one, and I don't believe they are intrusive. I include them only as part of a larger whole, but have taken pains to make their use 'organic'.- Gojirob

The Great Man Stumbles

by Rob Morris

"Of all the people I thought would be reluctant to head down to Moguera for Shore Leave, I certainly never thought to count you among them, Mister Crusher."

Wesley sighed, but in a polite way. He was somehow hoping to simply remain aboard and have that be that, but Captain Picard's legendary thoroughness obviously extended to checking leave lists.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"In private and off-duty? Of course, Wesley. What then, is troubling my very able Acting Ensign?"

"The fact, sir, that I'm not so able."

Picard took these words in and weighed them carefully. He regarded a lack of confidence on the part of any member of his extended staff as a crisis-in-the- making. Wes's casual brainstorms were a treasure he would fight to keep, if it proved necessary. It would.

"What lack do you describe, Wesley? You'll have to help me, for I must say, I've seen no evidence of it."

"Thank You, sir. But I would prefer to avoid Moguera 2. We have to be realistic, Captain. I don't always do very well when it comes to---these situations. Specifically, I refer to last year's incident on Rubicen Three, and the Edo people. My actions forced you to directly and knowingly violate The Prime Directive."

Picard frowned, and not just from the memory of that incident.

"Mister Crusher, that was to save your life from a casual, crass, and unjust death sentence. A sentence, might I add, that I would have moved to save any member of my crew from, considering that no rational being could have found you guilty, since they quite conveniently chose not to inform us of the law. Add to all of that, I now firmly believe the Edoan's so-called Deity was testing us all along, and you know my oft-voiced opinion about such tests."

But Wesley's face didn't change.

"Captain, would you say the Edoan's God was playing with us?"

Picard saw the boy was leading somewhere, but needed more to follow along the path.

"In a manner of speaking, yes, I suppose that could be said. Although I think it was at least in part to gain knowledge of us, however questionable its means of doing so."

Wes turned away, and then back.

"Sir, strictest confidence? Not a word to my mother, nor anyone else?"

"Within legal strictures, of course."

"Its nothing like that. Its just embarrassing. Okay. Remember the outfits on the Edoan women? The ones they almost weren't wearing?"

Picard smiled as he remembered, and pleasured at feeling a bit like a dirty old man.

"Vaguely. What of them?"

Wesley gulped, then looked up, and then finally spoke.

"Three of the more---well-endowed ladies there played a trick on me. Seems pranks don't get you executed. They took me to somewhat near the forbidden area, then told me to turn around. Well, I do, and when I turn back, they're doing pirouettes - but they're no longer wearing those uniforms they weren't wearing. They giggle, I start to fall back—and you know the rest. They had those strings back on in 3 seconds."

Picard felt like laughing, but wisely chose not to, for Wesley's sake.

"But you told us you were merely romping when we found you. Embarrassment? Fear of some of Mister LaForge's choice remarks?"

"No, sir. Geordi's a coward when it comes to that kind of back and forth, anyway. Always pulls rank to win. No, I figured, I was already set to die. Why risk dragging them down with me? The only thing that really bugs me is that when they pulled that---I reacted. "

"Many people would, Wesley. It was sudden, and very alluring."

"Was it? They were already, by our standards, 90% undressed. Why did that extra 10% knock me off my feet?"

Now Picard did laugh, and as he did, he got up to leave Crusher's quarters.

"Mister Crusher - two things. One, I am ordering you down to Moguera. Its a new Federation member, and bound by a great many of our laws, unlike the Edo's world. True, we don't know the culture as well as Betazed, Vulcan, or Andor. But that is what this is about, after all. Just play it by ear, and if you see trouble looming, quietly excuse yourself and beam up."

Wes gave in.

"Yes, sir. Sir...What's The Second Thing?"

Picard had a bit of the wolf in his regal face at that moment.

"Mister Crusher, 90% is fine and dandy. But do not ever discount the impact of that final 10%. I don't care what century it is, remember to watch that last step - its a doozy!"

Wes watched his Captain leave, then prepared to join the Leave party. He stopped, though, and spoke out loud.

"Heh. Jean-Luc Picard just said 'doozy'."

Once down on the planet, Wes did indeed feel more comfortable. He tasted of the local cuisine, which was always fun. Some Moguerans then suggested he witness an event taking place in the public square, and so he went. A lot of the Leave Party were already there.

He saw men and women from all over the ship, civilian and Starfleet both. In fact, it seemed odd that they were all there, as though the same suggestion had been made quite strongly. Crusher's hackles were further raised when he noticed that the crowd had no Moguerans whatsoever.

"Crusher To Enter....."

A suppressive field was operating somewhere. The badge wasn't transmitting.

Now, people that Wesley recognized as State Security surrounded the square, wielding large phaser rifles. The head of the group walked up to an Asian woman Wes had seen around the ship.

"You! Who was the undersecretary for outworld finance in the 120th Cycle of our world's existence?"

The woman's eyes shifted. She had once been told a story of an immigrant ancestor in ancient America who had to answer questions that crazed bigots would throw in her face. She now understood that woman just a little better.

"I'm---very sorry. I'm in botany, back on the ship. I never had a chance to delve that deeply into your culture. But I've been meaning to."

The guard shook his head disdainfully.

"Such contemptible ignorance of our sacred culture."

He raised his gun-butt to strike the woman, but a hand grabbed his and pushed the gun away.

"Why don't you just walk away before we friendly folk get really annoyed? You wouldn't like us when we're annoyed."

As Wesley guessed, all this got Transporter Chief O'Brien was a beating of his own. The woman from botany held up his head once the thugs were done.

"Thank You--but I don't think he would have hurt me as badly as he did you."

O'Brien smiled, despite the pain.

"Ah, my baby sister hits harder than that palooka! Sides, my old ugly mug can take a few punches better than your pretty face."

She liked his toughness. She would like it more as time went on.

"I'm Keiko Ishikawa, from Botany."

"Miles Edward O...."

"I know who you are. I mean---I've seen you around."

In the midst of a crisis, something precious had begun.

Wes used the training Commander Riker gave him, and sized up the area. Moguera was a spaceworthy world, but not yet rolling in the latest tech. So it was that when he spotted a large, obtrusive device - he more or less knew it had to be the comm signal jammer. He thought about seizing a rifle, and then thought better of it. The leader of the guards ranted.

"You come to our world, harass our people, and eat our food---but you only wade into our superior culture's history. This is an insolence for which we demand satisfaction! Any last words?"

"Just one, sir. A question."

In his pocket, Wes activated the spare comm-badge he had kept with him at all times since Rubicen 3--not to mention that time with Aldea and the children. He had never quite forgiven them for asking for and then just taking the children as they did. When he was little, doing that kind of thing got him in real trouble.

"What question, boy?"

"Sir, what was the name of the undersecretary in your question?"

The sick man smiled.

"Who cares?"

As he and his men opened fire, people began to die. But Wesley did what his dear friends and his Captain would have done. He reasoned a way out. Powering up his main comm-badge, he hurled it at what he hoped was the jammer. O'Brien saw this and gave Wes a thumbs up, for he knew that if a low-tech jammer suddenly met up with the high-tech device it was jamming, an explosion might follow, and it did.

"Good work, Wes. Like my great-great grandma used to say, don't put tinfoil in the microwave! I never understood what that meant."

The head guard was ranting as everyone beamed up.

"No! You don't escape! Not from me! Our world is so superior, Bajor stole its culture and copied it. This is against the treaty!"

Because of his spare comm-badge's low power, Wes was the last to be beamed up. As he did, the guards unloaded every weapon into his position. Some of the energy got through, as Doctor Kate Pulaski witnessed.

"Pulaski to Bridge! All the survivors are up! Only one wounded, though very badly. He'll pull through-- I think."

On the Bridge, Picard sighed in relief that only five had been lost, although there was no reason for even those five to have died.

"Good work, Doctor. Who is the wounded individual?"

"Wesley Crusher, Captain. I don't understand what he was doing down there. He told me he wasn't going."

On the Bridge, Geordi chimed in.

"Yeah, that's what he told me, too. Wonder why he changed his mind."

Picard shook visibly, and thought out loud.

"He didn't change his mind. I ordered him to go, to get over his fears of a repeat of Rubicen 3."

Kate Pulaski, attending to a wounded Wesley, also spoke without thinking.

"You've given better advice in your time, Captain. Much better."

Riker responded.

"Doctor, that is quite enough! Bridge Out!"

Data took note of something.

"Captain, several small ships bearing Mogueran registry and possessing a much higher level of technology than we have believed them to posses are bearing down on our position. Weapons already charged."

Worf looked up from his station.

"Captain--they are demanding we surrender our 'War Criminals'. Permission to tell them what part of Hell they should burn in, sir?"

But Picard didn't answer. His face was that of one lost, his eyes vacant and soulless.

"Number One, take over. Extricate us as you see fit. I'll be in my quarters."

A stunned Will Riker watched as a man who once swore he'd stay on the Bridge if bisected withdrew from the scene of a battle. It wasn't the Romulans, true. But the sight alone was a soul-breaker.

"All right. Mister Data, get us the hell out of here. Mister Worf, if they try to block us, be gentle but firm."

Worf nodded.

"Of course, sir. Every bat'leth has a blunt edge, after all, for just such an emergency."

And so the Enterprise withdrew. Riker called Sickbay.

"Doctor Pulaski, how is Ensign Crusher?"

"He may be just fine. But like I told Picard, he's not up to seeing anyone right now. I had to chase him out."

"You chased out the Captain?"

"I'll tell you what I told him, Commander. In this instance, he's caused quite enough trouble for one day."

Riker breathed in, but failed to calm himself.

"Doctor Pulaski, that's two, and I am counting."

Will then cut off the connection himself.

"Now, all I have to do is figure out what the hell the Moguerans are up to, get with Starfleet on how to handle this mess, deal with a wounded navigator being treated by an insubordinate doctor, bury our dead---and see if I get our Captain back."

The XO stared at the Bridge's lift doors.

"He left us."

In his quarters, Jean-Luc Picard stared at two pictures. One was of Wesley Crusher. The other was of Jack Crusher.

"Sacre Couer, Sang Real'. Please, not again. I couldn't bear it."

* * *

Miles was a bit thrown off by his dinner date's attitude.

"Look, Keiko. I've apologized repeatedly for not remembering that Commander Data introduced us before the incident on Moguera Two. Can't you let it go?"

"I don't see why I should. Miles, explain why you are so memorable to me, but I'm somehow forgettable?"

O'Brien sighed.

"Because the men in my family are genetic fools. Want to hear an example?"

Keiko was suspicious, but intrigued.

"Go ahead."

"All right. Seamus O'Brien was a hard working man with no social graces. Well, there's this nun who treats him kindly. He asks her how he can better himself so that a woman he knows won't be disgusted by how uncouth he is. She gives him little tips, and notices that sure enough, the single women in the parish are looking him over for the first time. One day, he asks her how he can further better himself. Now, he doesn't drink nearly as much as he did, brushes his teeth, shaves, and changes out of work clothes to go to social gatherings. With a sad smile, she states he is now as good as he'll be. He turns to leave, and almost misses the tear that trickles down her eye. He's not drunk, but realizes how very blind he was. The fool got down on one knee in the House Of God and proposed marriage to the Sister. She then ran to her Mother Superior."

Keiko nodded.

"To have the bum thrown out, I'd bet!"

"You'd bet wrong. She told her Mother Superior she was giving up The Habit, since God had answered her prayers. The man she loved had finally wised up. Though it caused a great stir among her family, Katherine Mulcahy married Seamus O'Brien in late 1954. Her brother, a Priest name of Francis, reluctantly performed the ceremony. There you have it - foolish O'Briens as far back as the cosmic eye can see. Hey, is something wrong? You look lost."

"No, not lost. Tell me, Miles--was this Francis Mulcahy a veteran of the Korean War of that era?"

Miles thought back.

"Now that you mention it, yeah. He served at a frontline medical unit as its chaplain. Served with no less than Hawkeye Pierce and Hot Lips Houlihan, the people who broke Khan Singh's rule."

Keiko smiled. The ancient vid of the vile dictator literally being heckled from power by chants of 'We Want Something Else' was an all-time classic piece of history. For her, living history.

"Do those family stories mention a Max Klinger?"

Miles laughed.

"Sure--as I recall, he was a slacker transvestite draft dodger who, after dozens of failed scams, ended up staying in Korea after the war! Married some dippy local who was just as thick-skulled as him–her name was--."

Keiko was frowning.

"Her name was Soon-Lee Han. Max and her had two children, a son, Walter Sherman Cy Young Klinger, and Maxine, who later married a Japanese businessman who had stayed with the Klingers while studying in America."

Miles did not catch her frown at all.

"Yeah, but they were still both dippy. He got himself thrown in jail a few times, and she was the type that bought tons of breakfast cereal to get free dinner plates! Say–how do you know so much about those two morons?"

Miles like linguini in a bed of cheese, and in marinara sauce. His lap, though, was another story. After dumping the plate, Keiko stormed off. Miles just sat there with a dumb look. Guinan walked over.

"I think those Klingers were her ancestors. Are you sure you're not descended from Major Burns?"

"Nerts to you, Guinan."

* * *

Will Riker couldn't believe the day he was having. Crewmen dead, Wesley fighting for his life, the Captain sullen and withdrawn, Pulaski practicing insubordination along with medicine, and now this shocking news from Starfleet.

"Admiral, are you saying the Moguerans attack on our Leave Party is to be excused?"

Nechayev frowned.

"Commander Riker, I don't know how this insanity got started. Because, according to the treaty by which Moguera Two was made a member of The Federation, this kind of attack was One Hundred Percent -- Legal. Allow me time to get to the bottom of this, Commander. Something is amiss in Denmark, as they say."

Will found himself face-to-face with a primal Starfleet nightmare. This was an enemy given legal sanction by his own government to kill his people with impunity. He thought out loud.

"Its like when I was a kid. 'Behave' I was told, 'You're A Guest In Someone's House'. Then, later, it was 'Behave, They Are Guests In Your House'. Meanwhile ...the other kids won't share their things and try to break mine. Wonderful. Acting Commander of a Starship, and I find myself 8 years old again!"

* * *

It was an extremely tentative Jean-Luc Picard that entered Sickbay. He had been out of circulation for an unheard of two days. Next to the recovering Wesley's bio-bed was Kate Pulaski. He was, by nature, not a hesitator. But the sight of the injured boy with Jack's face indeed gave the Captain pause. For he himself had played a part in the debacle that caused those injuries. He waited in the outer area and gathered his formidable courage.

On the Bridge, Will Riker shook his head at the apparently insane Mogueran Captain who appeared on the view screen.

"You shake your head at my generous offer, Riker. Why, when we of Moguera have been so gracious?"

Will showed reserve in this moment that was not only Picardian, but damned near Spockian.

"Well Mister Rian, our position is like this. You have casually murdered fellow Federation citizens who were members of my crew. You have claimed that we have offended your culture and broken laws that we were not told of--laws that you yourself admit are not on your books. You have fired upon this ship, demanding we turn the survivors of your attack over to you. We, in turn, have moved to disable your fleet. Have I missed anything?"

The look on Rian's face was the calm one of an utter psychotic.

"No. That was most thorough. Except for the young man who damaged Mogueran property. As a gesture of good faith toward a fellow Federation member, you must show us proof that he is dead by your hand."

Riker raised an eyebrow.

"We'll take it under advisement. Mister Worf, SEVER the connection."

"Done, sir. Myself, I'd rather bunk with a Romulan than listen to any more of this 'Superior Mogueran' idiocy."

La Forge nodded in assent.

"Commander, has anyone been able to figure out how these people even got into the Federation?"

"Not yet, Geordi. But for right now, there's something I have to retrieve, so you have the Conn."

"Aye, sir. But what are you going to retrieve?"

Riker stopped by the turbolift doors and turned slightly.

"Our Captain."

* * *

Down in Sickbay, the patient man known as the Scourge of Romulus finally figured out how to say hello to a teenage boy.

"Hello. Wesley. I'm pleased to see that you're doing better."

The young man's face didn't carry the look of one who was improving.

"Hello, Captain. I'm glad you're doing better, too. All things considered."

"Well, I don't much care for the ominous undertones of that statement. Care to elaborate?"

"Not unless I have to, Captain."

Picard's front began to wither.

"Yes, yes you do have to. I don't take terribly well to vagueness."

Wesley breathed in, and Picard saw that it still hurt him to do so.

"Captain Picard---rumor has it that you left the Bridge during the first Mogueran attack. That Commander Riker had to get us out."

Picard nodded.

"Indeed. What of it? I'd do the same for him, given a minor crisis such as that. "

Crusher's eyes turned grim and harsh.

"Commander Riker is not The Captain. You are, sir! You had no right to leave that Bridge unless you were injured. Some people --- might lose confidence in you, and your ability to lead effectively."

As Riker found him in Sickbay, Jean-Luc found himself absolutely livid at Wesley's veiled notion. The burden he already had was enormous, and its weight was killing him inside.

"Mister Crusher, this may in fact come as a great and savage blow to your prodigy's ego, but my assignment aboard Enterprise most pointedly does not include playing model hero to brats who ride their family's coattails into space. I am not perfect, and I don't believe I made any claims to that effect. So, then, to Hell with your idol worship, to Hell with your genius, and whilst we broach the subject - To Hell With You!"

Riker stopped the departing Picard, and stared at him in amazement.

"Just who are you? Because you're not Jean-Luc Picard, that's for damned certain."

"Oh, I'm Jean-Luc Picard, Number One. I can prove it very, very easily, by relieving you of duty. Confine yourself to quarters, pending review of your insubordination."

Sarcastic clapping was heard from Pulaski.

"Congratulations, Captain! That's three for..."

"DOCTOR PULASKI! You are relieved of all duties, and will be put off the ship at the next available Starbase. You were given ample warning---you all were."

* * *

"Then, Counselor, there was this animal yelling at Will and Wesley. Took me hours to realize that animal was myself. So foolish, all of it. What can I do to regain what we had?"

Deanna turned her head downward, then looked back up at her Captain.

"You can do nothing. What you once had-- is now gone forever."

These were words that tore at Jean-Luc's soul as no others could. It was done.

After some more talk with Deanna, Captain Picard accepted both the harsh truth and hidden meaning of her words. What had once been between him, Will Riker, and Wesley Crusher was now done. The trick would now lie in building what was to follow.

"Well, that's the real trick isn't it?"

Nursing his drink in a quiet corner of Ten-Forward, Jean-Luc hadn't heard Guinan sneak up on him. But then, he rarely did. That was Guinan, after all.

"What is the real trick?"

"Ohhh...building a new relationship with people. People you already know, and care for. People who have seemingly left you, in an unthinking moment. People you want back--very badly."

"Small ship, eh Guinan?"

"If it weren't, I could have still read that all straight off your face, Captain. Go--and talk to them. They want to be your friends again. You want to be their friend again. I don't see the impasse, frankly."

Picard hung his head, slightly, not meeting Guinan's hyper-intuitive gaze.

"I won't have them worshiping me, Guinan. That is one burden I will not bear. I will lead them, by authority, and by example. But mine is the example provided by a man. A man, who, at his core, is as any other man. I'll accept their forgiveness, if they'll give it. But the divine honors I will not allow. I won't have it."

Guinan seemed frustrated that she would not be the one to make the final breakthrough with Jean-Luc. So she settled for being part of his path back.

"Jean-Luc, remind me to tell you sometime who my hero is. Suffice it to say, he was a great man who could have ordered a wise withdrawal. Instead, he saved my life and the lives of over 100 of my people at the cost of his own. And some of them DO worship him, paused speech patterns or no. For now, go talk to O'Brien."

"But--Mister O'Brien and I are not upset with one another."

Guinan stared hard.

"Scoot."

Picard got up, but smiled at Guinan.

"Captains, my friend, do not scoot."

"Then Vamoose!"

"Very well, Guinan--I am vaaamooosing."

Guinan just rolled her eyes.

* * *

Miles O'Brien was punching some names into a PADD when Picard walked over to him.

"Gathering an enemies' list, Mister O'Brien?"

"Oh, Captain. No sir, not hardly. I'd be here all my days. No, I'm just setting up a reunion."

"Of the USS Rutledge senior staff, I presume?"

"No again, sir. I'm setting up a reunion of the MASH 4077th."

Picard tilted his head at that statement.

"Umm..Miles. Isn't that the medical unit in which Colonels Houlihan and Pierce met and fell in love, 50 years before they played a role in the defeat of Khan Singh?"

"Uh-huh. The very one."

"I see...no I don't. Galactic legend aside, aren't those people all centuries dead?"

Miles wondered at Picard's question, then suddenly caught on.

"Ha! Sir, I meant a reunion of those people's descendants! For example, I'm related to that unit's company chaplain, while Keiko Ishikawa from Botany is descended from their 2nd Company Clerk. So far, I've only found two more : Emissary Keh'lyr, descended from a John McIntyre, and the Executive Officer on The Saratoga, descended from their 2nd Commanding Officer. When I have enough names, me and Keiko are going to organize this thing and do it right. That little medical unit had some real colorful characters in it--not to mention producing two of the greatest heroes in Federation History."

Picard became pensive at such talk.

"History tells us that Pierce was an iconoclast. He probably would ask you why in blazes you are putting him up on so high a pedestal."

Miles nodded.

"I've thought of that. My response would be that his actions speak for him. He is a legend because of what he did : Restored freedom and democracy on our Earth, thus insuring Earth's pivotal role in the Federation. By calling Khan Singh out in public by heckling his would-be prime speech, he exposed him for what he was."

"He was just a man. He would tell you surely, that he needs no such burden placed upon him .He and his wife merely sought to prevent the ascendancy of a monster crafted by the same scientists who had experimented upon them without their knowledge, while in Korea. Something about phony influenza inoculations, if I recall correctly. Just a woman. Just a man. "

"Ah, sir. But it is because he was just a man that his actions were extraordinary. Whatever the truth about the Pierces' rumored longevity, there is and remains this fact : They beat the bad guy, and in so doing, saved the world. If he doesn't like being a legend, he should have shut his mouth and let Khan take over."

But Picard hadn't yet given up.

"My studies show a man who was, on occasion, a drunkard, a sexist womanizer, politically preachy, disrespectful of even friendly authorities, and an unparalleled egotist. Your great man stumbled quite often, Mister O'Brien."

O'Brien would not let his Captain, who he knew to be on edge, draw him in any further.

"Sir, I have to go. Miss Ishikawa is preparing us a small dinner in her quarters. But, yes, Hawkeye Pierce and for that matter, Hot Lips Houlihan, did stumble often, as you say. Still, even though The great man stumbles, he yet remains a great man. Evening, Captain."

So Miles left the still-dazed Jean-Luc Picard, lost in an early morning fog, but now starting to catch sight of visions to see him past the pains.

* * *

Jean-Luc was now a man on a mission. He had four great tasks before him. Now, he also carried with him the will and desire to accomplish those tasks. Yes, he had tripped and fallen. Yes, neither he nor his crew had been prepared for that inevitability. But now, he hoped, this event had immunized them from being crippled by it in the future. His first stop on this hopefully redemptive path - Sickbay.

"No need to yell further, Captain. I'm packing my things. I'll be ready for our next stop."

Picard indeed saw Kate Pulaski gathering those few items in Sickbay that were uniquely hers. But now that his head was clear of anger and guilt, he saw many other things - including a pattern.

"I've a question, Doctor, if you would be so kind as to answer it."

"On the off-chance you can keep a civil tongue in your head, I'd be more than happy to answer it, Captain."

Picard reminded himself both not to be drawn in and that he was in fact, The Captain.

"Actually, Doctor, you will answer my question, or we will go from a quiet putting-off to a full-blown court martial proceeding. Which is it?"

Picard now saw fury in her eyes, but it was not directed at him.

"Ask your damned question."

"I shall. Why is a superior surgeon and CMO seeking to build up a crisis of enmity between herself and her Commanding Officer, whom, I am told, she once requested to serve with?"

Kate sighed. The jig was up, in more ways than one.

"Remember, two months back, when Will Riker was recovering from his infection on Surata Four? Well, I tested myself when all was done, to make sure nothing of that spore/parasite had leaped from his bloodstream to mine. Nothing had."

Picard nodded.

"Certainly a wise precaution."

"Yes, well---the test showed something else. Something about a precaution I failed to take. More specifically, one that both I and Kyle Riker failed to take. Jean-Luc----I'm Pregnant!"

Picard smiled slightly, but not at Pulaski's expense. Rather, he was cheered that all this discomfort had so mundane an explanation.

"Kate--while you seem slightly embarrassed by this development, it hardly warrants your leaving in this manner. Your options are many. Among them are raising the child here, or--simply not having it at all."

Calmer now, Kate Pulaski responded to the gesture of friendship in kind.

"Its not as simple as all that. While I won't force my beliefs on anyone else, I myself must adhere to them or be a hypocrite. Translation: I'm having this baby. What's more, I've had a better offer. Sorry, Captain."

"Better offer? What manner of better offer?"

"Oh, just a position I've waited some years to fill. You can come out now, Commander Stepson."

It was a brighter Will Riker than Jean-Luc had seen in days that emerged from behind the rear partition.

"Hello, Captain. From your current tone of voice, is it safe to say we have you back?"

"Indeed, Number One. I am back. That other Jean-Luc you dealt with—is gone. Good riddance, I say."

Riker was careful not to heap on the praise, but it was hard.

"Maybe he was a transporter accident, sir. Either way--permission to speak freely, Captain?"

"Granted."

"If any XO of mine ever barks at me the way I did at you, I'm beaming them off the ship then and there--whether there happens to be a planet below at the time or not. You have my deepest apologies, sir. I suppose--well, I guess that in our admiration for you, we forget ourselves. You had a bad moment in a massively confusing situation. You did not endanger the ship. But I acted like somehow that's what you had done. If I can continue to serve aboard this ship, I'll consider the incident done on my end."

"Well, Mister Riker, I'm already losing my CMO to Kyle Riker's secret proposal of marriage. I'd rather not lose my Number One to Will Riker's crashed overestimation of my endurance. So, let us say, it is done. Except for two lingering subjects."

Riker nodded.

"The Moguerans."

Pulaski added to her stepson's words.

"And Wesley. He's not pleased with you right now, Jean-Luc."

Picard motioned for them to follow as they left for Crusher's quarters.

"That's quite understandable, Doctor. I've given him small reason to be pleased with me, of late. Will the extended Riker clan back me up on this vital mission of recovery?"

Will responded without missing a beat.

"Always."

* * *

Inside his quarters, a young man sat and sulked. He knew he shouldn't sulk, but that's exactly what he was doing. He was depressed, and extremely bitter.

"To hell with me?"

Wesley also knew that mumbling to one's self was not considered a good sign. But Picard's words had ripped straight through his core. He had spent much of his recovery studying the oddities of the Mogueran treaty bringing that strange world into the Federation. While the chilling document provided a decent distraction, it could not hope to pull his attention away entirely.

"To Hell With Me?"

He knew what he was. He knew what people said of him. He and they often felt like he was an impostor, a lucky geek who got to run with the gods up on the Bridge. He felt that way in bad moments. He knew that some people saw him that way all the time. Up until that point, though, he hadn't known that Jean-Luc Picard was among those people.

"TO HELL WITH ME!?"

Crusher wondered how long Picard had been regretting his choice to allow the once-forbidden 'child' on the Bridge. Had it been his failure to make the Academy? Or worse, was it some unknowable instant on or off the Bridge? Some reaction or response he had given that told the seasoned veteran with decades worth of Command experience that the boy simply didn't have it? If so, then he was lost. He could deal with the rules, such as they were. But unspoken standards were completely outside his ability to reason out. So his anger at The Captain grew. He stood up and shouted loudly straight at the door to his quarters.

"TO HELL WITH ME, HUH? WELL--SIR--TO HELL WITH YOU!!!!"

As often happens in life, the doors chose then to open just in time for Captain Picard to hear every last word. Riker and Pulaski were with him, eyes wide at the rant. Crusher shrunk, sat on his bed and put his head down, certain he was going to be sick. Picard, though, had expected –not this- but something like it. He spoke calmly.

"Well spoken, Mister Crusher. If you're through, may I speak now?"

Still dazed at this incredible run of bad luck, Wes only nodded, never lifting his head.

"I have a problem, Wesley. It involves those I hold dear and the awkward manner in which I often choose to express my affection for them and my concern for their well-being. In short, I ask you to forgive my rash words in Sickbay. I allowed the loss of your father to strike out at you, years down the path. I'm not entirely certain charges shouldn't be brought against me."

Now the young man did look up.

"Charges, sir? For what?"

The Captain shrugged.

"Oh, several things I can think of. Did you know, for example, that barring a compelling reason, my ordering you down to Moguera Two was completely illegal? Also, leaving the Bridge as I did put me firmly in the wrong. Maintaining silence, only to break it with a childish tirade? Do you know what I was in those moments, Wesley?"

"Confused, sir?"

"Certainly that. Although it's no excuse. I've recently delved into the history of a medical unit in Earth's Korean War. Its first CO was called the most confused man who ever lived. But what I did he would never have done, and so became a fell creature, and unworthy."

Picard could handle a dramatic pause as well as any previous Enterprise Captain.

"I became unworthy of commanding fine Bridge Officers like Will Riker, Geordi LaForge, Deanna Troi, Worf Rozhenko--- and Wesley Eugene Crusher."

The look of simple gratitude and forgiveness on Wesley's face effectively ended Picard's brief crisis of confidence. He took note of Crusher's PADD.

"They tell me you're a know-it-all, Mister Crusher. So have you found anything at all in the Mogueran Entry Treaty that explains why you were badly wounded and five of my crewmen killed?"

"I'm afraid that I have, Captain. But you won't like it."

Wesley breathed in before he began, even though in his mind Picard was no longer god-like. That hardly mattered, though, since Picard The Man was quite formidable whether on Mount Olympus or The Bridge Of The Enterprise. Zeus or Jean-Luc, he was still The Captain.

As Crusher had predicted, his Captain didn't like a single thing he heard.

"Basically, the Moguerans were well within their rights to attack us, as per the terms of their entry treaty."

Pulaski shook her head.

"Wesley, how can that be? All planets admitted to the Federation must adhere in some fashion to the Twenty Guarantees. Asking a vapid question like they did and then killing people for not knowing is something even the Romulans would probably draw the line at."

Crusher didn't disagree.

"I know, Doctor. But you see, the Moguerans never agreed to The Twenty. The way this treaty is worded, they get the full benefits of Federation membership but get treated as though they were still under Prime Directive non-intervention restrictions. All they gave was vague promises to someday consider our guarantees--if they feel like it. Whoever gave the thumbs up on this treaty must have been certifiable--sir."

Picard looked over the sections of treaty that Wes had highlighted. More than the last few days, it all shocked him.

"Certifiable, indeed. This--thing--gives them the right to casually declare war on another Federation planet, allies like The Klingons, and even Romulus! Hmm..it seems that they were previously kept out under Entry Restriction Nineteen."

Riker did a double-take.

"Restriction Nineteen? But that's never been invoked since its inclusion, fifty years ago. How could any planet be so bad as to activate that?"

Wesley gave in to curiosity.

"Ok, I admit it. I don't know what Restriction Nineteen is. Sounds kind of ominous, though."

Doctor Pulaski took this one.

"You see, Wes, it was foreseen that, eventually, there would come a culture that would deliberately test the most patient of Ambassadors. Hence, Entry Restriction Nineteen. Its language is simple, and says that a culture which lives too far within itself, and finds bullying joy in harassing non-natives ought to be excluded on that basis alone, till their culture can grow and evolve under the terms of The Prime Directive."

Picard took it from there, while Riker answered a call from the Bridge.

"Mind you, those claims must be verified. Taken the wrong way, Tellarite argumentativeness could be used as an exclusionary factor. But Tellarites love debate, not cruelty. These Moguerans are different. They have, since contact was made, embodied the colloquial slang name for Restriction Nineteen - 'Don't Mess With The Tourists.' Why, then, were they finally brought in?"

Riker returned from his call.

"Sir, Ambassador Justiniopolis transport just pulled out of Moguera. He is not a happy man."

"Something the Moguerans did?"

"Aye, Captain. You won't believe this. The Ambassador has two cybernetic legs - souvenirs of The Cardassian War. Well, the Mogueran President cuts them off, then pulls off the man's briefs to humiliate him. He's calling the Federation Council now, and has asked that we rendezvous with him."

Picard shook his head.

"Merde! To Cut Off A Man's Legs--And Steal His Drawers! Number One, we're all for The Bridge. We're calling Command and get this sorry matter settled."

As they did just that, Kate Pulaski took one last longing look at Sickbay. She sniffed for just a second.

"Its A Long Way, To Tipperary..."

When she arrived on the Bridge, Picard was consulting with an Admiral she didn't recognize onscreen.

"Captain Picard, this is a delicate matter, and one where as few questions as possible should be asked. Please let the Diplomats do their good work."

"I hope, Admiral, that by good work, you don't refer to this Entry Treaty. Because a Cadet in Introductory Diplomacy would see the gaping holes in it. No disrespect intended, but I want and deserve to know why five of my crewmen are dead by the hands of licensed thugs on a Federation world."

The Admiral sighed.

"An ethical question arose in The Council. There were complaints that only those planets that were resource-wealthy, culture-strong or strategically placed were being admitted. So, they sought out a world that met none of these criteria. Some who were zealously devoted to this notion found Moguera Two, and became vocal that it be admitted by any and all means. The treaty's crafters were not budding Sareks or Rivas. Whatever the Moguerans wanted, they gave them. With that, here we are."

Picard kept his calm, despite alternating desires to laugh or scream at this absurdity.

"Admiral, allow me to see if I have this all correct. These idle theorists sought out a world with extremely difficult natives and no intrinsic value to The Federation in The Arts or any other venue. Having found such a world, they then handed them a blank check, so to speak."

The woman nodded.

"It gets better. Moguerans hate their own history. They feel they are superior because they wipe away all traces of the old history every fifty years. We don't even have access to their archaeological grounds."

Onscreen, The Admiral saw a message and smiled.

"Captain Picard, proceed back to Moguera Two. The Council wishes you to deliver a message."

Picard did just that, and upon arrival, was greeted with the face of a man he was more convinced than ever was mad. He was Gi Gan, the Mogueran President.

"So, you have returned to surrender our prisoners. Of course, your previous defiance now means that you and all your crew must surrender, as well. Your ship becomes Mogueran property. When will you begin the mass surrender?"

Picard grinned.

"Never. Mister Crusher, please deliver the message from The Federation Council."

"With pleasure, sir. 'The Planet Of Moguera Two, having displayed the very worst sort of behavior possible for a Federation member, and having offered no rational explanation for said behavior, is hereby the first world in all of known history to be completely and absolutely expelled from The United Federation Of Planets.' That's just about it, Captain."

Gi Gan was livid.

"This---is an insolence! I demand satisfaction!"

Picard was not about to give him any.

"You want satisfaction, Mister President? Go To Your Better Business Bureau. Myself, I haven't the time. Also–should any Mogueran ship so much as sneeze on a Federation vessel, allied vessel, or enemy we're at peace with, please be certain, there will be hell to pay. You're getting off easy, Mister President, so don't press your luck. End of this--and all further transmissions!"

Ten years later, a greatly changed Moguera Two tentatively reapplied to The Federation, discovering it was hard to mess with the tourists when there weren't any. It is said that the negotiating sessions regarding reparations were things of legend. Ambassador Justinopolis even went so far as to demand ten kilos of strawberry ice cream and a container of spam.

But on The Enterprise-D, that next week, Moguera Two and the troubles it had wrought were fading. The dead were mourned, and the living connected with them satisfied that the guilty parties had tasted grief. At Starbase 200, Will Riker said goodbye to his new Stepmother, Kate Pulaski.

"Now, you be sure and make him treat you right. If you don't nudge sometimes, he takes you for granted."

Pulaski smiled.

"Fine by me. You just promise to be there when I deliver, Will. Baby will want to meet Big Brother, first thing. Oh, I feel so stupid. But when Kyle finally proposed, I melted. Hey, when do I get a nice, pretty stepdaughter-in-law? Say, an empathic one?"

Will feigned confusion.

"What, you want I should marry a Deltan?"

The punch to his arm was well-deserved.

Back on the ship, Picard was annoyed at having missed Pulaski by ten minutes.

"Hardly like her not to say goodbye. By the way, Wesley, thank you very much for accompanying me to Sickbay like this. I want a valued friend with me as we greet Kate's replacement---whoever they may be. So help me, it may not even be a surgeon, just a general practitioner with administrative skills."

They stood before the Sickbay Door.

"Sir, whoever they are--I'll bet they're waiting."

"Indeed. Tell me, Mister Crusher, how did you get so brave?"

"I inherited it from my father's best friend."

Picard was extremely thankful at that moment that he was not a hugger. They went in, and there the replacement was. Jean-Luc and Wesley gasped.

"Well, then--I suppose this is what we get for allowing Doctor Pulaski to handle the matter of her replacement, eh Wesley?"

The boy was crying unashamed tears of joy.

"Yes, sir. We get the very best."

The beautiful woman with the red hair and broad smile hugged her son for a full two minutes. Doctor Beverly Crusher had returned home. She released her son, and held Jean-Luc's hand.

"Both of you---In the examination room, Right Now! I am not letting a year go by without giving you complete physicals."

Knowing better than to argue, The Captain and his Acting Ensign made for the Exam Room. Beverly looked around her new/old domain.

"God, its good to be back!"

She then took off the small red beret hat she was wearing, and tossed it into the air. In the background, Nurse Ogawa stared askance at the odd sight.

EPILOGUE - HOLODECK 4

As BJ Hunnicutt waved them off, Miles O'Brien and Keiko Ishikawa's Helicopter lifted off. Keiko was in her glory. She and Miles had fallen rapidly and deeply in love.

"Oh, I know this part of the story. BJ leaves Hawkeye the message 'GoodBye' written in stones on the ground. But it was hardly the last time they saw each other."

Miles frowned.

"Keiko, the program messed up the message. Will you look down and see what it says?"

Indeed, she did. She looked, and then she cried. Written in the stones was not one word, but two.

"MARRY ME"

"Miles?! Computer, Place Message in stones below, Keiko-One!"

Instantly, the stones rearranged and formed a single word. She had been ready for this.

"YES"

The two landed, and kissed. Despite the wartime simulation, the setting was the most romantic they'd ever seen, for they were with each other.

"Hmmm. Any other programs based on the 4077th?"

Miles nodded.

"Plenty. Want to hear my favorites?"

"Only for the rest of my life."

"Ok. Let's see. They were in Tokyo, having a reunion, when the first Gojira attack occurred. Nahhh. Let's keep it during the Korean War. Now, Pierce sends Radar O'Reilly off to Seoul to have a good time, only, along the way, the poor kid gets hurt. Pierce feels a tremendous amount of guilt, and...."

THE END


End file.
